New Ends, New Beginnings
by Cheerfully Cynical
Summary: Elizabeth Banks was ordinary. The most exciting part about her life was her schooling in nursing. However, that changes when a man she saw on the news saves her. Along the way, she faces horrors beyond her imagination. Can she and this new man make it through? Or will they crash and burn? Bucky/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** New Ends, New Beginnings

 **Summary:** Elizabeth Banks was ordinary. The most exciting part about her life was her schooling in nursing. However, that changes when a man she saw on the news saves her. Along the way, she faces horrors beyond her imagination. Can she and this new man make it through? Or will they crash and burn? Bucky/OC

 **Rating by chapter:** K+ (mild violence)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own ANYTHING. This includes Marvel comics and movies mentioned.

She could feel the headache coming on. The long line of people had finally disappeared, but the rush had left her feet aching and her mind spinning. She sighed and spun behind her, beginning to once again stalk the items that have decreased. Nearly everything was gone. There were only two medium cups left and the lids were nowhere in sight.

She sighed again, this time catching the attention of her coworker.

Her coworker smiled at her. "And we work because…?"

"Money." She replied back, smiling slightly.

"And we work at McDonald's because…?"

"Because college is expensive and I don't want to be paying my student loans off until I'm 77."

"Right in one, Liz." She said, pointing said medium cups at her. "Besides, at least you got good company."

Liz teasingly threw a lid at her. "What 'good' company are you talking about, Kelly?"

"Oh, shut up you." She replied with the same tone. She began to stalk the small coffee cups. "You know you love me."

Liz tilted her head, as if in thought. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Just for that comment," Kelly said, gesturing towards the person walking in. "You can take the next order."

She groaned but made her way to the register, waiting impatiently for the person to come in. When he arrived at the front counter, she became nervous. She was a people person and often preferred taking the orders over making drinks, but the man in front of her gave her a horrible vibe. He was wearing a large hoodie that covered his face. His jeans were torn in a thousand and one places. He continued to stare at the menu above her.

Liz attempted to smile at him. He did nothing in response. She shifted awkwardly in place. She caught a glimpse of his eyes. He looked… confused?

"I know," she told him. "The menu is way too big and moves around too much." She made a show of pointing at the particular menu board that moved every ten seconds. "See, impossible to read."

He did nothing. He didn't even move.

Liz was honestly baffled and now very nervous. She was used to dealing with rude customers and loud kids, but never once did someone just not _respond_ to her.

Liz looked behind her slightly. However, her hopes were dashed when she saw that kelly was nowhere in sight and every other coworker was busy with something else.

"So," She said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Whenever you're ready, just let me know." Not expecting a response, she turned around and grabbed the stack of trays that needed to be cleaned. Assuming that he was going to be another minute, she took a quick trip outside the front counter and restocked the straws. She continued to watch him. He still didn't moved.

Still nervous, she spun around too quickly and slammed into someone that was behind her, the straws flying everywhere. She was so shocked that she landed on her butt, her hands catching her fall.

Blinking, she looked up and spotted the person she had slammed into. Instantly, she knew she was in trouble. The man in front of her was around her age. However, one look at him screamed "not good guy". He had his hands balled into fists and looked angry enough to punch her.

"I'm so sorry!" She bursted out, scared of his reaction. She got up from the ground awkwardly, making sure to take a step away from him. "Are you alright?"

"No." He growled, his voice low. "My damn drink is all over the floor."

She looked down to see that his large soda, had indeed, fallen to the floor and was beginning to spill around his shoes. She now realized that her pants were wet at the bottom.

"I am so sorry!" She exclaimed. "I can get you another, no charge?"

She made her way to the back counter, but before she could get through the door, the man grabbed her arm in a harsh grip. Never before had someone manhandled her like that. At least not in a long time. Terror made her throat close up.

"You're not going anywhere, honey," The guy said, pushing her slightly, "until you clean up this mess."

She closed her eyes, readying herself. She was not weak. She would not let this jerk treat her like this.

"Let go of me." She demanded loudly, catching the attention of people around her.

"Excuse me?" The man growled, his tone of voice causing her to shake.

However, her voice didn't waver when she repeated the order.

She saw his right hand raise, its quick descend heading right for her face. No hope of stopping it, she closed her eyes, waiting for the pain.

It never came. His hand was suddenly whipped off her shoulder, causing her to stumble.

In front of her was the man in the large hoodie. He had the jerk suspended in the air by his throat. Without a hint of hesitation, the man threw the teen into the table behind her, the impact so hard that the table cracked.

His hood was thrown off in his haste and she caught a glimpse of blue eyes and long, brown hair before he ran out of the store.

Liz stood frozen, watching his retreating back fade off into the distance. Without thinking, she ran after him.

She had no idea what she was doing. Three things that have never happened to her before had occurred in the last ten minutes. 1) someone had touched her with the intent of hurting her, 2) a man had thrown another man so hard that he was still unconscious and 3) she was running away from her job and to someone she had never met in her life.

Somehow she had managed to continue on his trail. He was impossibly fast. The only way to follow him was to watch the traffic around him. Being on a busy street had, for once, helped her.

Eventually he turned into Central Park. To her horror, he was heading into the small, dark clearing where no one was in site. She was out of breath, her legs were killing her, and she had no idea where she was, but she continued to follow him.

She still had no idea why. The only thought in her head was to find him.

As she reached the forest she realized she now had no way to follow him. She slowed down, her breathing obnoxiously loud in the quiet clearing.

She jumped when she heard a stick snap to her right. In another second, a hand was around her throat.

It happened so fast that she didn't even have time to register that it had happened. Her breath was no longer coming out in deep, wheezing breaths. Her vision cleared. The stranger in front of her still had his hood up. She couldn't see his eyes.

"Why did you follow me?"

The sound of his voice brought her back to reality. She was in a forest, away from anyone, and his hand was resting - for now - lightly on her throat. She could be dead in the next second.

Tears sprung to her eyes. "I don't know!" She stuttered. "I-I-I wanted to t-thank you!"

The man studied her. She continued to take deep, agonizing breaths, still trembling.

"Go back." He said roughly, taking his hand away. He began to walk away.

She nodded to herself, taking the words into consideration. Hell, it sounded like a great idea. She began to turn, but the moment she turned her head, she caught the side of blood on his gray sweatshirt.

Her attitude changed in a moment. She was almost a nurse and she tended to have a different mind when it came to medical problems. Her heart slowed and the list of things to do was already building in her head. She couldn't let him leave with him hurt.

"Wait!" She called to his retreating back. "You're hurt!"

He didn't turn around. Actually, he pretended not to hear her. She bit her lip and ran to catch up with him.

"Please!" She called again. "At least let me help you. I'm a nurse!"

He stopped. It was so sudden that she nearly ran past him.

"Stop following me. Go back."

The words stopped her short. She was trying to help. Why was he running from her? What did he have to hide? It didn't matter. It was her duty as a nurse to help him. The least she could do was look at the cut.

"Listen," she said forcibly, her tone of voice instantly changing into her 'professional' tone. "It could become infected if it's as bad as I think it is. You could lose your arm if it's not treated properly."

He stood perfectly still, not reacting to her words at all.

A list of things ran through her head. She was required to take a brief psychology class for her nursing degree, and a number of things had been highlighted at his reactions, the loudest bring PTSD. He was silent, moody, and ready to run at any moment. Not only that, but he screamed 'dangerous' and that could mean he went through a lot to become that.

She took this into account and began to soften her voice. "I can treat you in my apartment. No one is there and you can leave as soon as I'm done. No one would know." She looked down awkwardly. "I owe you for saving me back there."

It took what felt like an eternity for him to response. The slight nod of his head was all she needed. She began to walk away, knowing he would follow.

Thankfully, she was only a block away from her apartment if they walked back to her job.

 _Holy crap, her job._ She peaked inside. People were standing around in a circle, not doubt trying to help the jerk. The police were already there. She needed to go back and tell them she was alright. She didn't want anyone to begin looking for her.

"Listen," Liz said, addressing him. "I have to go back inside to tell the police that I'm okay. I don't want them to come looking for me. You think you can wait out here?"

He seemed to have not heard her. She shifted awkwardly in place once again and waited. Soon enough, her answer came in the form of him sitting on the park bench a foot ahead of him.

She nodded to herself and whispered an "alrighty then."

As soon as she walked in, it was madness. Her coworker Kelly ran to her, engulfing her in a hug. Surprised, she nearly fell, but someone else was already at her back, keeping her steady. It was a police officer.

"Oh my god, Liz!" Kelly said, still gripping her arms. "Are you alright? Why in God's name did you run after him?"

"I-I-" She was interrupted by the same police officer that held her steady.

"Mrs. Banks?" The officer asked, looking at her as if she wasn't worth his time.

She nodded, getting nervous again. She had never gotten pulled over, never mind actually being apart of a… what the heck did she call it? An… incident?

"I'd liked to ask you a few questions about what happened here."

She swallowed. "Okay."

"Could you please describe what happened here."

It was quick. She stood next to Kelly the entire time, who helped get her through the harder parts and even dramatically pointed to the jerk that left a rather large bruise on her arm. It got tricky when she describe what the man had done to him.

"He… picked him up and threw him into the table."

The police officer stared at her. "What?"

"Yeah!" Kelly said, nodding along with Liz. "The man just picked that jerk up by the throat and threw him into the table! It was nuts!"

"And you went after him?" He asked, looking at Liz.

Liz nodded, not really know what to say.

"Did you find him?"

"No." She lied, keeping the answer short and sweet. "I never caught up with him."

"Alright," The police officer said, clearly believing her lie. "We'll file a police report against the man who grabbed you. You may be called to court to testify. We'll keep in touch. Here." He handed her a card. It contained the man's name and number and his department.

"Thanks." She breathed, ready to bolt and help the stranger she had lied about.

She took a moment to reflect on that. Already, her life had taken a dramatic turn.

Liz turned towards Kelly. "I'm going home." She told her, feeling her heart beat in her chest. "Tell the managers."

"Of course!" Kelly said, looking concerned. "You want me to walk you home?"

Liz shook her head. "No, I'll be alright. Thank you though."

Kelly hugged her once again. She ran to the back to get her purse, gave a quick wave the manager, who seemed to understand that she was leaving, and left, catching up with the stranger on the park bench.

"Okay," She told him. "Let's get going."

He said nothing, he got up from his seat and continued to follow her.

He was quiet the entire time and his hood was back up, but he silently followed behind her.

Of course, she forgot her keys at work, but she, thankfully, still kept a key under a flower pot in front of her house. She grabbed it and opened the door, allowing him to go in first.

It was a small apartment in New York City. Granted, it wasn't the size of a closet, but it only held a kitchen/dining room area and a bedroom. The most expensive thing in the room was the small flat screen TV. But, at least it wasn't messy. The messiest part of the house was the bedroom and, thankfully, the door was closed.

She coughed awkwardly. "So, um…" He turned towards her, which caused her to blush even more. What the hell was she doing letting a complete stranger into her apartment? "The couch is free to use while I find some supplies." He didn't move. "Right. Um…" She moved to get her medical kit. While she moved to the bathroom, he _glided_ to the couch and sat completely straight upon it, looking ready to bolt.

"Hey," She smiled awkwardly at him. If she was good at anything, it was bedside manner. "You can leave as soon as I make sure you're not bleeding to death. Sound like a plan?"

He nodded again. She took a deep breath and sat on the table across from him, her knees nearly touching his. "Okay, mind taking the sweatshirt off?"

She looked away slightly as she grabbed the alcoholic swabs. When she turned to look at him, he was in a black short sleeve shirt and - _holy shit._

 _Holy shit._ He had a metal arm. _He had a_ _ **metal**_ _arm._ Her mouth fell open. _This was the Winter Solider she had seen on the news three weeks ago. The man who had once been Captain America's best friend. Who attacked his best friend. Who was apart of Hydra._

She took a deep breath. This wasn't her. She wasn't one to freak out. She was calm. She knew how to handle any situation. She could keep a cool head. He was a normal patient. He had to be in order for her to treat him.

"Okay," She breathed. "Let's see that cut."

With the amount of blood she had spotted, she would have thought he need stitches. However, the cut didn't look that deep. If anything. It's length was scarier than its depth.

She reached out to touch his arm, but he flinched back, his eyes going wide.

"Sorry!" She said hastily. "I should have asked first."

He didn't say anything, only continued to stare at her.

"Umm…" She said, not knowing where to go from here. "Right, you don't trust me. Okay, uh, my name is Elizabeth Banks. Liz for short. And you are…?"

He shook his head, his eyebrows drawn together. "I don't remember."

Her heart stopped. Oh God, how could he not know his own name? What happened to him?

"But…" She glanced hopefully at him. He closed his eyes, as if in physical pain. "Bucky." He said eventually.

"Bucky." She said, testing the name out. If anything, she was expecting it to be James. That's the name she had heard in history class years ago.

"Well, Bucky," she said teasingly. "It's going to be hard to treat you if I can't touch you."

It took another eternity, but he nodded in acknowledgment.

She sighed in relief. "Alright, let's take a look at that cut." this time, he didn't move. However, he went tense. She pretended not to notice.

Her earlier observations were right. It was long, but it wasn't deep. Stitches wouldn't be required. She took the alcoholic swab and said "this might sting a little" Before going to work.

He didn't move. There was nothing to indicate that she was hurting him. She continued her work however. The blood was minimal at this point, so it was easy to clean.

"So, where are you heading?" She asked. She cursed herself. She really didn't want to ask any questions, but she was not one for silence when she was treating people. Usually her talking help calm both the patient and herself.

He tilted his head at her, as if he didn't understand the question. "I don't know."

Another stab to the heart. He didn't sound like a scary assassin ready to kill her. He sounded lost.

"Well, you had to of known where you were going when I was...chasing you."

He shook his head again. "Well, you must of been hungry…?" She picked up the gauze and began to wrap the arm. She looked back at him. His head was tilted again, staring at him in confusion.

"I can make you something?" She commented lightly, tapping the bandage up. She was done. "Before you go, I mean. I make a mean pasta sauce." She laughed lightly.

Her smile seemed to calm him, which shocked her. "Then I can leave?"

"Yeah!" She said enthusiastically. "I'm not keeping you here against your will, I promise. I just…" She got up from the couch and began to make the pasta. She was better at talking when she had something to do. "I owe you. That jerk really could have hurt me."

And with that, she made pasta for the Winter Soldier.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 **A/N: I know, so boring. We're not even near the good stuff. However, at least the main character met Bucky, right? And we got some character understanding from Liz already, and you've got a hint of what Bucky was like after what happened in Washington. So, good, right? Some-what decent?**

 **Yeah, I was kind of bored with writing this chapter, but sometimes chapter one is the most important. It'll get more exciting, I promise.**

 **Thanks for the read! Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** New Ends, New Beginnings

 **Summary:** Elizabeth Banks was ordinary. The most exciting part about her life was her schooling in nursing. However, that changes when a man she saw on the news saves her. Along the way, she faces horrors beyond her imagination. Can she and this new man make it through? Or will they crash and burn? Bucky/OC

 **Rating by chapter:** K+ (mild violence)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own ANYTHING. This includes Marvel comics and movies mentioned.

He was silent. It was an hour now of her loud cooking, and he did not move or breathe or generally do anything. However, it wasn't for her lack of trying.

"So, Bucky," She tried again, placing the plates down on the dinner table. "You like tomato sauce?"

She at least got him to sit at the kitchen table so she could talk to him face to face. "I don't know."

She pretended to be offended. "Well, you will after this."

She was about to ask another question when he interrupted her. "Why did you come after me."

She stopped what she was doing. This was important; she could feel it in the air. If she didn't answer this correctly, she would be a dead woman.

She bit her lip, turning towards him. "What do you mean?"

"I know you know who I am." He stated, sliding the newspaper that was one her table into her hands. The front page was of his face, aiming a punch at Captain America. She swallowed.

"You saved _me."_ She said, looking into his eyes. They didn't change. If anything, they become colder. "Me. You don't even know me! You risked your life to stop that man from - from hitting me. You could have walked away and gone on with your life. But you stopped."

She looked away. "That isn't someone that is a heartless killer. Why should I treat you like something you're not?"

He seemed taken aback at her answer. She was breathing deeply, praying to god that he didn't just end her there and then.

When he got up from the table, she couldn't help but back away from him. She placed her hands on the counter behind, where she knew a cooking knife was.

However, he did nothing that she expect. He _smiled_ at her. No joke, full on open smile with teeth showing. He looked near to tears. " _Thank you."_ And then it was over. He sat back down at the table, acting as if none of it had occurred.

"You're…" He turned his head towards her. "You're welcome." She finished.

Awkwardly (she seemed to keep doing that) she turned back around and began stirring the sauce again. "So," She said. She cursed herself again. Why did she have to hate awkward silences. "Where do you live?"

"No where." He answered blandly, but at least he was talking now.

She now placed the done pasta in front of him and sat across from him. "Nowhere?" she repeated, confused.

He shrugged, something so human that it made her relax. "I've been on the road for a while."

 _Of course._ About a million and one government agents were on the lookout for him. Of course he wouldn't have anywhere to stay.

"I'm sorry." She told him. "That must be hard."

He took a bite of the pasta. His eyes widened comically. He looked so shocked and delighted that she laughed. "It's good, right?"

He nodded. With both of them smiling, it was easy to pretend that they were friends having dinner together. She began to relax again, feeling like her normal self. The food helped too. They ate in silence, but in less than a minute, his food was gone. Blinking, she realized that he just ate a _full plate of pasta_ in the amount of time it took her to eat a bite.

"Man, you should be in a pie eating contest." She commented, "You'll win for sure." She went back to the pot. "More?"

He nodded, and this time she made sure to give him a heaping spoonful of it. She wasn't going to eat it all anyway. They ate again in silence. However, Liz's mind was spinning. He knew that he was Bucky Barnes, but did he really know? He was attacking his best friend three weeks ago. What had changed? As always, she couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Why did you attack Captain America?"

The question came out of her mouth before she could stop it. It was idiotic and stupid, but she didn't quite regret it.

He stopped eating and looked up at her. "He was my mission."

She blinked at him. "Your mission?"

He looked unsure. "I was supposed to kill him."

"But why didn't you?" She asked in a whisper.

"I knew him." He said instantly. It came out as a pain grasp, and he seemed to be fitting a headache. "He was my friend."

What the hell did they do to him? How could he forget years of memories? "He was." She answered after a while. He looked up at him. "He was your friend."

"But I don't _know_ him." he growled. "I can't remember."

"I can help with that!" She exclaimed, excited. Of course she could help him remember _something_. The internet was vast and she was lucky enough to own a laptop. One search of James Barnes and he would be able to read all about himself.

"Here," She said, grabbing the laptop from the couch. She opened it next to him and continued to type in 'James Barnes.' the first result was images from the 40s. She clicked on it.

The first image was of a tiny Steve Rogers and a younger, handsome man. She clicked on it, watching Bucky's reaction.

He peered closely at the screen looking lost. "That isn't the man on the bridge."

"It is," she answered, wondering how the hell she was going to explain it. "He turned into Captain America by going through this… procedure. It cured him of every disease he ever had and gave him super strength."

"And his name is Steve Rogers?" He asked, clicking on the next photo. It was of Captain America and Sergeant Barnes. Steve had his arm around Bucky, and Bucky seemed to be looking right at Steve, smiling.

"Yeah." She replied. "You guys are heroes."

Bucky seemed to be not listening to her, which was fine. She would be pretty shocked if she saw herself in a photo and didn't remember it. God, what had her life become?

The next image was of the new Smithsonian Exhibit featuring Captain America.

"There's a museum about us?"

"Did I mention the hero part?" She laughed. "Yeah, you guys did a lot for the war effort. Hey! Maybe you should go! See if it jogs your memory!"

He said nothing, only continued to look at the exhibits virtual tour.

"What?" She asked.

"It's too risky." He replied.

She felt shocked. If it was her, she would take any opportunity to figure out who she was. "But it could help jog something." She made sure to say it neutrally; she didn't want him to become influenced by her every thought.

He still looked unsure. "They could be looking."

She didn't bother asking who "they" was. She could guess. She didn't like the two groups that came up. "Well," she said thoughtfully, "What if you waited a week or so?"

He nodded. She realized that was the best answer she was going to get. Tired, she let out a yawn. She then realized that it eleven pm. She had spent nearly all of the day with him.

She looked at him. His hair was a mess, probably because it hasn't been cut in… in a very long time. He smelled a little and needed a shower. His clothes had too many holes in them to be considered clothes anymore. He looked homeless.

But his eyes. His eyes were always… empty. Their would be a flicker of a human being once and awhile, but it was always revert back to the cold glare.

A swell of sadness caused her to look away. This poor man. How much had he suffered?

"Bucky?" She asked, watching silently as he continued to look at pictures. He turned towards her. She shuffled on her feet. "Do-do you want to stay for the night? Get some rest?"

When his expression didn't change, her cheeks warmed. She already made him come to her house. Was she an idiot?

However, to her shock, he nodded and muttered a soft "Thank you."

She gave him a soft smile in response. "No problem." An idea came to mind. "But you only get a blanket if you visit the Smithsonian."

"A blanket?" He turned towards her again.

"Yeah!" Liz replied. "You know, those things that keep you warm?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I know what a blanket is."

"Good," She said, feeling the corners of her mouth twitch. "Then you know you want one."

He shook his head, but she caught the small smirk that was appearing on his face. "I promise."

"Great!" She exclaimed. "Alright, I'll take the couch. You take the bed. In the morning, you take a shower. Deal?"

He looked unsure once again. "The bed?"

"Yeah," Liz replied, she was already getting the blankets for the couch. "The thing you sleep on?"

He looked annoyed. "I'll take the couch."

She laughed. Well, it seemed even brainwashing couldn't beat out someone's manners. "Sorry, you wouldn't fit." it was true. While the couch had no problem fitting her 5'4 body, there was no way it would fit him.

"Besides," She said. She tossed herself onto the couch and rolled over. "I'm already on it and comfy. Go sleep on the bed."

He looked shocked by her actions. If anything, that made her smile more. "Go," She half commanded. You legit look like you haven't sleep in twenty years."

He opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. She closed her eyes as she heard his footsteps go into her bedroom. With everything going on, she was out like a light in two seconds. The last thing she heard was the _creak_ of the bed when he laid down on it.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxX**

She woke up to screaming; loud, high-pitched screaming. In a daze she kicked off her fort of blankets and ran to the sound, nearly falling flat on her face. The scene she walked into was one that would never leave her memory. Bucky was _convulsing_ on the bed, nearly tearing his own hair out.

Her nurse mode came back in a instant. She went to the head of the bed and began to talk in neutral tones. "Hey," She said, not quite daring to touch him yet. "Bucky, it's a dream. It's not real. You're in my apartment. You are safe."

He began to settle down, but he was still grabbing at his head. She was almost positive she saw claw marks.

It had been ten minutes and he still didn't wake up. She was beginning to get restless. Her smooth tones were settling him down, but it didn't stop. She had to help him.

"Bucky, I'm going to grab your arm." She told him. "It's okay. You'll be alright."

She slowly guided her shaking hand to his real, flesh arm. As soon as her finger touched him, she knew she made a mistake.

He was up so fast that she couldn't process what had happened. On moment her feet were planted firmly on the ground, the next she was on the floor, her back aching. In the next moment, she was up again, her feet dangled uselessly and he choked the air out of her.

"Bucky." She gasped, looking into his eyes. They were filled with a drive she had never seen before in anyone. "Bucky, it's Liz."

She began to see spots explode in her vision. "Bucky." She gasped one more time.

Suddenly, she was on the ground again. She could breath. Tears sprung to her eyes. She was okay. Everything would be alright. It was a nightmare.

"Bu-" Her throat burned. She coughed and tried again. "Bucky." She called. She looked up to see his back to her. He was shaking.

She got up… and instantly stumbled. She closed her eyes. She could do this. She was trained for this. It would be okay. "Hey," She croaked, slowly moving in front of him.

His eyes stayed trained in front of him. He didn't move; barely breathed.

"Bucky," She said, also staying as still as she could. "It's okay. It was an accident. I shouldn't have touched you."

He didn't move. Didn't even react to his words.

She stood there for what felt like hours. She was not backing down. Backing down now meant giving up on him. He didn't deserve that. It was an accident. He couldn't have helped it.

"I could have killed you." He said. She wouldn't of caught it if she wasn't looking. "I could have killed you."

With tears in her eyes, she smiled. "You didn't." She replied.

He closed his eyes. "I should leave."

She almost said yes. God, she was tempted too. This problem would be gone. She wouldn't have to worry about injuries or crazy assassins. It would go back to normal. Everything would be back to the way it was.

She closed her eyes. No, she couldn't do that. She would ruin him. She was a nurse, goddammit, and she was going to stick through it. She could save him.

"No," She said clearly. "You're staying. You're going to help me get some ice, and then we're going to sit down and talk about this, right?"

He finally looked into her eyes. They were filled with tears too. He looked terrified; alone, scared, angry. "I should leave."

"No." She demanded this time. "It's going to be alright. You're not running away from this one." She took a steady breath in. Her throat her. "Ice, then water, then talking. Right?"

He looked close to running out the door. When he turned, she resisted the urge to grab him. He had to make this decision. She had to believe in him. He could get through this.

She heard the freezer being opened… and then he returned with ice and a glass of water.

She smiled sadly.

It was a start.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **A/N: Well, some action. I know, we all want it to go right to Steve finding them. Hell, I do too don't worry. But, you can't rush character development. This is a huge step for both of them, and it's about to get more intense.**

 **Get ready for the next chapter! Talking… and maybe some real action? Who knows.**

 **Feed the muse! Review please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** New Ends, New Beginnings

 **Summary:** Elizabeth Banks was ordinary. The most exciting part about her life was her schooling in nursing. However, that changes when a man she saw on the news saves her. Along the way, she faces horrors beyond her imagination. Can she and this new man make it through? Or will they crash and burn? Bucky/OC

 **Rating by chapter:** T (Language)

 **Song for this chapter:** Surprisingly, Twenty One Pilots' Album _Blurryface_ was on repeat for this one. Check it out.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own ANYTHING. This includes Marvel comics and movies mentioned.

 **A/N:** Pay close attention to the second part of the chapter. Notice the grammar used

Liz's first step was getting him to sit. After she took the ice from his hand, she gently pushed him towards the bed. He refused to sit, even when she sat on the small recliner behind her. Eventually, she gave up and put the ice on her throat, nearly crying out when she put just a little amount of pressure on it.

She swallowed painfully. "Bucky," She said again, this time nearly sounding commanding. She made sure to soften her tone. "You're making me nervous. Sit. I promise nothing is going to happen."

The nervous part seemed to have done it. He sat down on the bed, looking lost. "I'm sor-"

She cut him off instantly. "Don't be." She coldly interrupted. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have touched you."

Her looked even more lost. "How could you say that?" He looked down. "I did that to you."

"This?" She asked, peeling away the ice. She didn't dare move when he looked up. " _A mere flesh wound._ " She joked, quoting _Monty Python and the Holy Grail._

"How could you say that?" He repeated, getting frustrated. "Look at you! You can barely talk!"

Well, he wasn't wrong. She would have a wicked sore throat for days. "I can _talk_ because you didn't kill me." She gave him a gentle smile. "You _stopped,_ Bucky. That's the important part. It's the first step to healing."

He shook his head. "It doesn't feel like healing." He muttered.

"Well, Bud," She said, putting the ice back on the injury. "You'll get there."

It was silent. She needed for a moment. She knew she looked composed, she was trained to do that - but she felt like a wreck. She had thoughts about him, work, her life, her life choices, her mom and dad… you name it, it was on her mind. She needed quite. She needed time to digest everything.

Eventually, she had to break the silence. It was killing her more than her throat. "How about you take a shower?" She suggested, "You'll feel better."

He continued to look frustrated. "Why are you not angry at me."

She shrugged. "Nothing to be angry at."

He opened his mouth, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. "Let me finish."

"Yeah," She said, "It hurts. Actually, I'm pretty sure as soon as you're not in sight I'm gonna ball my eyes out, but _I'm alive._ Having a nightmare is scary as fuck. I get it. And with the horrors you went through, I'm sure you have plenty of things to have nightmares about."

She paused, trying to find the right words.

"There's strength in stopping yourself." She muttered. He looked to be hanging on her every word. "You have strength, Bucky. More so than me. Yeah, it was scary, I had my will written in my head and everything, but it's okay, because you stopped. You realized it wasn't real. You did that all on your own. That's incredible. And it means that it will get better as time goes on. And you wanna know what's even better?"

He nodded, leaning closer to her.

"You're alive. You're still here… and you get to have a nice relaxing shower after the hell you've been through."

She smiled widely at him. "So go take a goddamn shower before I force you in there."

He slowly got up. "Thank you."

She smiled again. "There's nothing to thank me for."

He shook his head. "There's everything to thank you for." With that, he slowly walked towards the bathroom and quietly shut the door.

Almost as if she was a dream, she moved to the living room and sat down on the couch, the ice still held up to the neck. When she heard the shower come on, she let the tears escape from her eyes. God, she had almost died. She almost lost her entire life because she was helping one assassin who had killed a lot of people.

But he was a good person. It was in there. Hell, it was there when she was talking to him. She wiped away the tears that were falling down her face. She could be strong for him. She could. She had too. She could cry later.

She slowly took the water from the table and drank a small sip. The cold was refreshing, but the pressure it created made her cough. He throat was way too swollen. She need to take something.

Wait, Bucky needed clothes. His were in tatters. Thankfully, she broke up with a guy only a month ago and she still had some of his clothes. She was thankful that he was big.

She grabbed the clothes from the drawer and put them on the ground at the door. She about to shout to him that they were there, but she just didn't have the energy to do it.

Everything became blurry and she stumbled to her bed. She fell, and her eyes fell shut with her.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxX**

Bucky hadn't had a shower in years. At least, not one that felt this good. The burning hot water felt good on his tense muscles and it was nice to know that no one was going to rush him.

But something else lingered behind his happiness. He felt it constantly. The orders that rang through his head never stopped.

 _Mission report. Mission report. Mission report, Soldier!_

He growled and brought has hand to his eyes, rubbing them. No one was there. He wasn't the Soldier. He was Bucky Barnes. Steve Roger's friend. He was no longer the Winter Soldier. He could do this.

His resolve stumbled when he thought of Liz. He didn't understand her… _compassion._ She never faltered and was always nice. Her constant talking kept him grounded.

And it did that to her. The Winter Soldier hurt someone innocent again. something that he thought it would never do again.

It growled in the depth of it's mind, angry that he was winning. It was not weak, it was a killing machine. It had no thoughts.

He had thoughts of Liz.

She was stunning. Her short brown hair seemed to glow every time she moved, and her eyes held fire that he found irresistible.

How she could continue to be kind to someone like him was an enigma. When he felt the water begin to get cold, he shut it off.

He avoided the mirror, knowing that he wasn't quite ready to face _that._ He began to pull on his clothes quickly and opened the door.

He stopped when he felt something beneath him. To his surprise, it was clothes. Not only that, they were clean clothes that were roughly his size. Without realizing it, a small smile had begun to form. With a soft growl, it stopped it. However, it - _he_ was grateful that he would no longer have wear rags. He walked back into the bathroom to change.

The clothes were comfortable and easy to move him, something that satisfied the old him. It also made him question why she would have such clothes. Was she with someone?

An anger that he couldn't describe rose up in him - it. It wanted her all to itself. It was valuable. It could heal him. He winced suddenly, fighting the thoughts. She wasn't _just_ valuable. She was kind, caring, patient; _a friend._ He put his hand to his eyes, rubbing them once he still have friends? Could he trust her?

He shook his head. He didn't deserve friends. It didn't need them. He rushed out of the bathroom and went back into the bedroom, searching for her. When he spotted her, another soft smile appeared on his face.

She was asleep on the bed, nearly taking up the whole thing. Her leg was dangling uselessly off it. A sudden image struck him: _a tiny blond punk, lying down on a mattress, his arm hanging off the side of the bed. He moved towards him, a soft smile on his face, a put the arm back on the bed. He placed the glass of water by desk and left, closing the door softly behind him._

 _Click._ He was back in reality. His eyes were still slammed shut, the images still fresh in his mind. Why? Why did that _useless_ memory appear? What did he gain from that?

" _His friendship."_ His mind answered. The man on the bridge, blue eyes. " _You're my friend."_

He growled, once again bring his hand to his eyes. He was in the present. _Liz_ was who was here. Not- not- not-

The man on the bridge.

He banished the thoughts. Without thinking, he moved towards her, picking up her leg and gently putting it on the bed. This close, he could clearly see the damage he had done to her. It was bad. It was already turning a harsh shade of purple and it looked like she had trouble breathing.

A familiar feeling consumed him. He forgot the word to it a long time ago, but it continuously ate at him. It felt like his heart was being torn apart. How could he do this to her? Besides that, but how could he forget safety measures? He didn't have a reliable weapon, nor did he look at every nook and cranny of the house. They could be watching.

It needed to scope out the house; determine every possible escape route and go from there. He needed to find a weapon and leave.

He shook his head. He had been on the run for three weeks now. There was no way for Hydra to track him. They would have found him already. He was safe… for now.

He looked down once again. Liz's breathing had evened out and she seemed to be in a deep slumber. It could kill her right now and be rid of the problem. There would be no loose ends to tell Hydra where he was.

He groaned and sat down, running his hands through his hair. He could not-would not let himself do anything to harm her. She didn't deserve any pain. However, there was one thing he needed to fix.

Quietly, he made his way out of the bedroom and began exploring. He learned quickly that the apartment was well stocked with food. The kitchen was used pretty often by the looks of the pans. The next fact gained was that she liked to read. Books were _everywhere,_ including the kitchen cabinets.

There were two doors. The front and side door. The side door was concealed by the fence. Probably the best option for escape besides the bedroom window.

When he opened the closet, something silver caught his attention. It was metal box all the way up on the top shelf. The next fact was that she owned a gun. It was a Springfield XD-S. Surprised, he opened the clip to find it fully loaded. Carefully, he put it back into the box and put it exactly as he found it. It was good to know.

However, why would she have such a weapon? What made her feel like it was necessary?

These were things to assess in the morning.

For now, he got what he wanted. He determined the safest route out of the house, and even found a decent weapon. With sleep long forgotten, he decided to stay up and keep guard.

Not for her, of course. Just to make sure no one found him - them - it.

Eventually, he hoped, it would only be him...

 _Them._

 **A/N: I'm not sure why the chapters keep getting smaller haha. Actually, I do, but if I were to put the next 'scene' in, it would be ridiculously long.**

 **Anyway, thoughts everyone? How did Liz handle the situation? What about Bucky? Dang, he has a lot of stuff on his mind, huh? Any reviews on Bucky's thoughts? And Liz owning a gun…? Hm.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Reviews feed the muse!**


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